


Decisions

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Sam Campbell AU [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5852011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara is having second thoughts about her break-up with Professor Campbell. Doesn’t matter that he’s been dating the reader. Part of my Professor!Sam AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions

“No, Dean, she’s fine,” I said, holding my phone between my shoulder and head as I shoved books and papers in my bag. “He hasn’t tried to call or come by either her apartment or the bar. Hopefully, he’s going to stay away. But enough about us, when are you coming back to work?”

I spent the next few minutes on the phone with Dean until I had no choice but to disconnect so I wouldn’t be late for my dinner date with Y/N. I had to dig through my desk drawers to find my car keys and I nearly left my cell phone on the bookshelf by the door, remembering it only after I’d gotten halfway down the hallway. On my way back for it, I was stopped by no less than three students, each of them taking several minutes of my time. By the time I made it to my car, I knew I was going to be late for dinner. It was inevitable.

I started the car, but before pulling out of my parking space, I sent a quick text message to Y/N, telling her I would be late, apologizing profusely. As usual, she replied with a smiley face and her typical ‘no apology necessary’ text. 

“Take your time,” she answered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And that was a huge part of the reason I was falling for her. She was laid back, easygoing, took everything in stride. Dating her was fun, easy, uncomplicated. I hadn’t had that in a long time and I loved it.

Once I was home, I dropped my bag on the couch and hurried to get cleaned up. I’d promised Y/N that I wouldn’t take long and I intended to keep my word.

It was quiet in the house, almost too quiet. I was still adjusting to living on my own. Dean had been here most of the summer until he’d found his house and Jo had occasionally stayed over, until she’d tried to blackmail my best friend into dating her and we’d basically stopped talking. And even though Cara had never officially moved in, she had been here so much she might as well have. I was still finding her things around the house - a necklace in the back bathroom, a pair of old flip-flops on the back patio, those hair things she always wore in every room of the house. I’d put a box in the hall closet and every time I found something, I tossed it in there. At some point I’d have to take it to her.

As I showered, my mind wandered to Cara, wondering how she might be doing. It actually surprised me that I hadn’t thought much about her the last few weeks or really even missed her. I’d spent more than two years living a life that I had thought was all about her and now she only occasionally crossed my mind. The pain I’d felt after the break-up was a distant memory, one that had faded much faster than I had thought it would. I was happy, probably happier than I’d been in a while.

I shut off the water when it started to run cold, shoved my hands through my hair, shaking it free of water, stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I checked the clock on the bedside table as I walked to the closet, hurrying to pull out clothes when I realized I was going to be later than I thought. I was dressed within minutes, my keys in one hand, jacket in the other. I would probably freeze in the December cold with my wet hair, but I was in a hurry.

I wasn’t looking as I yanked open the front door and stepped outside, so I ran into Cara, nearly knocking her off of the porch. I grabbed her elbow to stop her from falling, yanking her against my chest. I stared down at her for nearly thirty seconds before words would form in my mouth.

“Cara?” I finally mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Sam,” she snapped. “Jesus, what took you so long to answer the door?”

“I was in the shower,” I sighed.

“Can we go inside?” Cara asked. “I’m freezing.”

“I have somewhere to be,” I replied.

“Five minutes,” she said. “I swear, just five minutes.”

Reluctantly, I pushed open the door and gestured for her to go in. When she moved to take off her coat, I cleared my throat, stopping her. She shot me a glare, a face I’d grown quite familiar with during the last month or so of our relationship, then she seemed to compose herself, taking a deep breath and letting the tension relax. She straightened her coat and shifted from foot to foot for several seconds.

“Cara?” I prompted, purposefully glancing at my watch.

She pushed a hand through her hair, a sure sign she was nervous. “I made a mistake,” she murmured. “I...I never should have broken up with you. I was...I was stupid and...impulsive, I guess. It was a mistake. I still love you and I want to try to make things work. So...uh, I…” She stared up at me, her brown eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Sam. Please forgive me.”

* * *

He was late, even later than he’d said he would be. You checked the clock over the bar and poured yourself another soda, your fingers drumming on the counter.

“Sam’s late?” Charlie said as she passed you.

You nodded, sipping from your drink. “A little,” you shrugged.

“You’ve been sitting there staring at the clock for more than hour,” Charlie laughed. “I think he’s more than a little late.” 

“He’ll be here, Charlie,” you said, though you were starting to get worried. You checked your phone for the fifth or sixth time in the last fifteen minutes. Nothing.

A cold blast of air hitting the back of your legs drew your attention to the open bar door. Sam had come in, bringing wind and snow in with him. You smiled at him, though he didn’t return it. You got off the barstool and met him halfway to the door. 

“Hey,” you murmured, your hand on his arm. You stretched up to kiss him, but at the last second he turned his head, your lips brushing across his scruffy cheek. You ignored the slight, stepping back to look at him.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. “Just been a crazy day. You ready?”

“I am,” you answered. You grabbed your purse and coat off of the stool you’d been sitting on, then followed Sam out the door. 

The drive to the restaurant was very quiet, much quieter than normal. Sam would normally tell you about his day when you were together, or ask about yours. But he seemed preoccupied, lost in his own thoughts. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wondering what was bothering him.

Sam didn’t say a word to you until you were seated at your table, menus and drinks in front of you. He cleared his throat a few times and fidgeted with his silverware until you dropped your menu to the table and folded your hands in front of you.

“Alright, what’s going on?” you asked. 

Sam sighed heavily, gently laid down his menu and took a drink from the glass of whiskey in front of him. He ran a hand through his long brown locks, grumbling when it fell right back into his eyes. He cleared his throat several times.

“Sam?” you muttered. A knot of fear had started to form in your stomach.

“I was late because Cara came by my house,” he finally said. “She, uh, she wants us to get back together, try again. She said it was a mistake to break up with me and that she thinks she did it because it scared her when I started to push her to set a date for the wedding.”

“What did you say?” you asked. The knot of fear had turned into a lump of terror. Your hands were shaking and heat had flooded your face.

“I really didn’t say anything,” Sam murmured, staring at the tabletop. “Strangely enough, I thanked her, escorted her out of the house and left. I guess it took me by surprise.”

“Okay,” you exhaled. “What are you going to say? Are you going to get back together with her?”

“Can we talk about this later?” he sighed heavily. “I just...I just need time to process what happened, think about what I’m going to do.”

You pushed your chair back from the table, scraping it loudly over the floor. “I think maybe you need time to process this now. I’ll grab a cab back to the bar.”

“Y/N,” Sam said, rising slightly from his seat. “Wait -”

“No, seriously, Sam, it’s okay,” you said. Before he could say anything else, you turned and fled.

* * *

You should have known it was too good to be true. You’d told yourself over and over that you couldn’t fall for Sam, that it was just a casual relationship, that you shouldn’t get attached. But you had fallen for him and you were attached. So that made all of this that much more painful.

You’d shut your phone off as soon as you’d climbed in the taxi. You weren’t in the mood for to talk to anyone. Sam wasn’t the only one that needed time to process. By the time you got to your apartment, you were barely holding back the tears. And cursing yourself out for it.

You had no doubt in your mind that Sam was going to take Cara back. They’d only broken up a couple of months ago and Sam had been devastated. You’d witnessed it firsthand. You didn’t think he’d pass up a chance to rekindle the love with his former fiancee. And you’d be left out in the cold, heartbroken.

Your apartment was dark and quiet. You headed straight for the bedroom, stripping off your clothes as soon as you were through the door. You pulled out your comfort pajamas - the fluffiest pair of pajama pants you owned and an old sweatshirt you’d had since high school. You put on a pair of warm, wool socks and padded back to the living room. 

You briefly considered eating something, the empty feeling in your stomach indicating that you were hungry, but the thought didn’t appeal to you. Your old quilt was on the back of the couch, so you pulled it over you and burrowed beneath it.

It started slowly, just a trickle, one traitorous tear sliding down your face into your hair. You wiped angrily at it with the edge of the blanket, furious that you were feeling like this. You weren’t supposed to be upset at the end of a relationship that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

Unfortunately, Sam’s scent was all over the quilt and it assaulted your senses. The tears came in a flood, flowing freely down your face, drowning you. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. You’d fallen head over heels in love with the handsome professor. 

A sense of loss overwhelmed you and then you were sobbing, tears flowing, aching, moaning cries falling from your lips. You took in giant gulps of air, desperately trying to bring yourself under control. You managed to cry yourself to sleep, curled in a ball on the couch.

You were stiff and sore, a headache pounding between your eyes when you finally woke up. You pushed yourself up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. You fumbled for your phone, turning it on, praying he had called while you’d been sleeping. Once it was on, you swiped at the screen. There was one message. It was from Sam.

_ I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me. _

* * *

Saturdays were quiet, too quiet. I’d gotten up later than usual and gone running, the music in my headphones turned up loud enough to drown out my thoughts. When I got back to the house, I’d made a huge breakfast and a pot of coffee. I sat at the table, staring out the window over the sink, wishing I was anywhere but here. The food I’d just cooked sat in front of me, untouched.

When had my life tumbled into a rabbit hole of craziness? Six months ago I’d been happily engaged, sure of the direction my life was headed. Then everything had changed and I’d been thrown into a tailspin. I’d finally started to feel grounded, finally started to feel like I was getting back to normal, back to myself and then Cara had swooped in and thrown a wrench in the works.

I pushed away from the table and dumped my uneaten food in the trash. I wandered through the house, desperately trying to line up my thoughts, make a decision. I put Cara off, but that hadn’t stopped her from texting and calling me multiple times over the last twenty-four hours. I hadn’t heard from Y/N and when I’d tried to call her, it had gone straight to voicemail. 

I was torn. It was stupid and cliched and ridiculous, but it was what it was. A part of me was still in love with Cara, wanted to go back to our life the way it had been - happy, together and planning our future. There was also a part of me that was relieved that Cara and I were over, that I’d found Y/N. She was beautiful, funny, smart, and she made me feel good about myself. How was it possible that I might be in love with two women? 

I dropped to the couch and turned on the TV, choosing some random basketball game that didn’t really matter to me. I checked my phone. Two missed calls from Cara. I listened to the voice mails, both of them imploring me to give her a chance, begging me to call her back. There was nothing from Y/N. I disconnected, flipping my phone from hand to hand. 

I had to make a decision, I couldn’t leave two women wondering what I was going to do. I ran a hand through my hair, then I opened my phone and dialed the number I had always known I would dial.

“Hey, it’s Sam,” I said when she answered the phone. “Is it alright if I come over? We need to talk.”


End file.
